


You're My Best Friend

by mystiri1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: song_prompt, Curses, Gen, Humor, Intoxication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-03
Updated: 2011-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-20 23:38:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/218341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystiri1/pseuds/mystiri1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The things you do for your brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're My Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Queen - [You're My Best Friend.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4vQwrHZWWk)

The problem with hunting witches, in Sam's opinion, was that they had a tendency to fight back in really unfair ways. It was rare that they'd pick up a knife or a gun, that they'd come at you with fists flying - no, it was almost always a curse, and some of them had certainly been... creative, to say the least.

This one is, comparatively speaking, relatively harmless. Except for the fact that Sam's pretty sure the witch is using the opportunity to get out of town, but they're alive and not in any danger of dying, they're not disfigured or transformed in any way, and it doesn't involve excruciating pain. It's just that Dean is in no condition to fight anything, and Sam is now stuck dragging his brother's useless ass back to the hotel.

Dean starts singing, and Sam revises his opinion regarding the general painlessness of their situation. For someone who loves music, Dean is a surprisingly bad singer when drunk.

That's the curse: Dean went from stone-cold sober to drunk in about two seconds, when it would usually take him at least an hour or two and most of a bottle of Johnny Walker. More, he's a sloppy drunk, hanging off Sam and unable to walk a straight line, singing loudly as they walk down the street - Sam had tried and failed to get the keys for the Impala from Dean - and it's the middle of the day. Total strangers are giving them both looks of disgust, and Sam has to strangle the urge to apologise for his brother's behaviour, because it's really not Dean's fault.

Well, it's mostly not Dean's fault. Except for when it is, because - "Dammit, will you just stop singing?"

"Huh?" Dean blinks up at him. "You don't like my singing?"

There's something in the look Dean's giving him now that makes Sam feel like a heel. "No," he mutters.

"Do you like me?" Dean's eyes are wide and suspiciously shiny. If the next stage of the curse is 'weepy drunk', Sam's dumping his ass in the street and leaving him. No, on second thought giving the local cops the opportunity to haul Dean off to the local drunk tank is too dangerous. They might actually idenitfy him, and then Sam wouldn't just be bailing him out the morning after, he'd be staging a jail break. But if he starts crying, Sam's going to film it with his cellphone, and email it to Bobby. And everybody else they know.

Fortunately for Dean, he has a short attention span. "I like you, Sammy" he says with the earnestness of someone who is well and truly intoxicated. "You're not just my little brother - giant, sasquatch little brother," Dean corrects himself, "you're my best friend. My bestest friend. In the whole world!" This is accompanied with sweeping arm gestures as illustration and Dean - who has let got of Sam in order to make them - nearly falls over as a result of the momentum and his complete inability to walk straight. He staggers slightly, and latches back onto Sam. "My bestest little brother. Who's way too tall."

The grip on Sam's arm turns into an awkward hug that sends them both staggering sideways. "I love you, Sammy!" Dean proclaims, loudly, and Sam wonders how much longer it will take him to get Dean back to the motel. And leave him there.

Still, Sam decides he's going to remember this, as Dean's effusive declarations of affection continue. Of course, now he's moved onto the Impala, and that diner down the street with the special on apple pie a la mode, and that motel they stayed at three towns back, because it had the comfiest beds ever. But next time Dean accuses him of being a giant girl, Sam's going to bring this up, and rub it in good.

That, and the fact that Dean was singing Queen.


End file.
